


Fight Me

by DeanwillgodownwiththisShip



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:28:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5515589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanwillgodownwiththisShip/pseuds/DeanwillgodownwiththisShip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a post I saw on tumblr:</p>
<p>"My nurse just came in to check my vitals and I told him to fight me from beneath a mountain pillows. He just moved my pillows and told me maybe later.<br/>he just came in again and when I tried to tell him to fight me again I started coughing and I couldn’t breathe and then then he just smiled and told he won’t fight me because he knows I’d win<br/>Apparently I seduced him with my drool and terrible lungs because he wrote his number on a coffee from the giftshop under “fight me?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight Me

**Author's Note:**

> All credit for the idea goes to the OP, I just couldn't get the idea of a Bellarke fic out of my head!
> 
> Completely un-beta'd just me reading at a stupid hour of the night so apologies for any mistakes!
> 
> Merry Christmas Everyone!

 

Hospitals sucked. Even from underneath an enormous stack of pillows Clarke couldn’t block out the fluorescent lights left on in the halls. The lights, combined with the constant bustle of people outside her room made sleeping virtually impossible, and Clarke without sleep was not a pleasant person to deal with at the best of times. However, a sleep deprived Clarke who was already pissed at the universe was even less fun.

 

Okay, so she may have been partially responsible for ending up in hospital, apparently juggling two jobs and med school was a fairly good way to end up with glandular fever. Yes, she was studying to be a doctor she should have known better but Clarke was never one to do things halfway so why should this be any different?

To top things off, the nurse that came by to check on her every few hours was insanely hot. Like almost model hot, with an artfully messy mop of brown hair, gorgeous tanned skin and muscles that were ridiculously close to busting out of his scrub top. He was the oxford dictionary definition of hot. And Clarke? Well… Clarke hadn’t brushed her hair in three days, sounded like a cat being strangled when she spoke and was wearing a hospital gown that flapped open at the back, exposing far too much of her underwear. Unfortunately when she came to hospital it was laundry day so they weren’t even underwear she was proud to show off. All in all, the universe was having a good laugh at her misfortune and she wanted to crawl under the covers and never come out.

 

The fact that hospitals were supposed to be places for people to _rest_ apparently seemed to mean nothing to the hoards of people who stomped past her room talking and laughing as the went. Hence Clarke lying under a mountain of pillows, trying desperately to block out the noise and the light in order to get twenty minutes of glorious sleep, before someone came to poke and prod at her again. Ugh the sooner she was out of this hellhole the better. Her own crappy apartment had never seemed more heavenly.

 

She just started to feel sleep pulling her under when footsteps grew closer and an amused voice spoke, “Can you even breathe under all those pillows?”

 

“Ughhh” Clarke groaned, trying to convey just how pissed she was at the interruption.

 

“Sorry, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute. I just need to check your vitals and then I’m out of here I promise.” The voice, whilst still amused sounded vaguely apologetic and Clarke realised with a start that it belonged to the gorgeous nurse, Bellamy.

 

Perfect. She hadn’t even had a chance to brush her teeth this morning. She would just about sell her soul for some foundation at this point.

 

“Fight me.” She rasped from under the pillows, thrusting one arm out of her cocoon for him to take her blood pressure. Hopefully he’d do his job and leave without even seeing her face.

 

Bellamy chuckled gently, placing the blood pressure monitor around her arm. “Maybe later. I don’t think it would be a fair fight at this point.”

 

To Clarke’s dismay, more and more light began to make its way through her fortress of pillows as he removed them one at a time. She glared at him, hoping she looked more terrifying and less like a petulant child. He laughed and she figured she may have missed the mark, choosing to ignore how his laugh made her stomach flutter in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with her illness.

 

Bellamy smirked, the smug bastard. “I have to take your temperature somehow.”

 

 

Clarke glared, the thermometer sticking out of her mouth, resolutely ignoring the ever-present smirk on Bellamy’s face. He may be pretty to look out but this guy was starting to seriously piss her off. Wasn’t he supposed to be making her feel better, not worse? She sure as hell didn’t feel better after his frequent visits.

 

Bellamy snorted as Clarke told him as much. “You’re not the highlight of my day either, Princess. Plenty of other more pleasant people I could be looking after right now.”

 

His words were harsh but his eyes were twinkling, his voice light and teasing. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Hope you manage some sleep, lord knows it might help your sunny disposition.” He winked, leaving her open mouthed and out of witty retorts.

 

_Damn it._

Next time she’d have the last word.

 

 

 

Clarke refused to admit that Bellamy’s frequent checkups were the highlight of her day. In her defence, it wasn’t like anything actually happened while she was lying in bed feeling sorry for herself. Her day went roughly like this: First, she was rudely woken by a team of noisy doctors. They talked about her and not to her, and glared at them until they left. Next, she ate a crappy breakfast of soggy toast and cereal without milk (seriously, they forgot it _every_ day).

 

Visiting hours started after breakfast, they were possibly the worst part of Clarke’s day. Her friends were busy at school, though to be honest Clarke didn’t have that many good friends, she had study partners but her only real friend, Wells was living on campus at another university and it was far too long since she’d seen him.

 

Visiting hours were really quite depressing when no one came to visit. Clarke’s mother was a surgeon at that very hospital but she was far too busy to waste her time sitting by Clarke’s bedside, in fact, Clarke had seen her once since she’d been admitted. As much as she tried to pretend the sound of families laughing with loved ones didn’t bother her, it was pretty miserable sitting alone day after day.

 

So, really it wasn’t hard to be the most exciting part of Clarke’s day. It wasn’t Bellamy himself, more the fact that she was able to glare at somehow who took it and gave it right back. Really, it had nothing to do with the smoking hot nurse in the scrubs that left little to the imagination.

 

Nothing at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Bellamy returned later that day Clarke was ready.

 

“How’s my favourite patient?” Bellamy grinned, seeing her glare already in place.

 

“Fi-ght” Clarke was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing. Bellamy rubbed her back gently as her coughing subsided. Eyes watering, she gasped out “Fight me.”

 

Bellamy laughed gently, “I won’t fight you. I know you’ll win.”

 

Once again, Clarke was caught off guard, that wasn’t the response she was expecting. She huffed, crossing her arms and trying to hide the smile threatening to break through (and failing, she suspected judging by the look on his face).

 

“So what made you become a nurse anyway?” Clarke asked, aiming to keep her voice as disinterested as possible.

 

Bellamy, as usual saw straight through her. “When I was younger, my mother got sick. Cancer. I spent a lot of time at the hospital. The doctors, they were great but it was the nurses who spent all their time with her, they became her support network and she relied on them so heavily. They cared about her and it made such a difference to her. “ Bellamy looked down, not quite meeting her gaze. “I suppose I wanted to give be that person for someone else. I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid but it always stuck with me.”

 

Bellamy shook his head, smiling at her. “Anyway, does that mean I get to ask you a question now? We spend so much time together and I know nothing about you, except that sleep is something you don’t do well without.”

 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Ask away, I’m an open book.”

 

Bellamy paused, thinking. “Okay, this may be none of my business, but I’ve noticed you never have visitors during visiting hours. Why is that?”

 

Clarke’s gaze hardened, though she struggled to keep her tone light and uncaring. “It’s not like I’m dying. I’ll be out of here in no time, no need for anyone to waste time sitting by my bedside.”

 

Bellamy looked at her, something akin to pity in his eyes. Clarke hated that look; she saw that look far too often after her father died. It made her feel pathetic and weak, two things she despised feeling.

 

“Who needs visitors anyway? I have your pleasant company.” She added dryly.

 

 

 

 

Over the next few days, Bellamy and Clarke spent more time together. She noticed he seemed to time his visits with the busiest visiting hours. Clarke pretended she didn’t notice, but she was touched that he cared enough to keep her company at her loneliest.

 

That didn’t mean she was any nicer. In fact every conversation started the same, with her telling him to fight her, and him making a new excuse every time as to why he wouldn’t win. It was their routine and it made her day somewhat brighter.

 

The day she was due to be discharged, Clarke finally got to wash her hair, she was well on the way to feeling human again. The feeling of being properly clean and in her own clothes almost made up for her disappointment at not seeing Bellamy that morning. His job was done, she supposed. He cared for her when she was sick, but she was recovering now so it was out of his hands. It wasn’t like they were friends or anything.

 

As entered her room she noticed a cup of coffee sitting on her bedside table next to a teddy bear dressed as a superhero. That certainly hadn’t been there when she went to shower, baffled she went closer to see if there was a note or a card. The coffee was still warm, the smell heavenly. She hadn’t seen proper coffee the entire week she’d been in hospital.

 

Clarke laughed, noticing the words written on the cup.

 

Fight me?

 

Underneath was a phone number. Clarke’s cheeks hurt from grinning, what a nerd.

 

 

 

  

 

 

“Hello?” She didn’t realise she’d missed his voice until she heard him answer.

 

“You know, I would fight you. But I’ve been thinking and you’re right. Now that I’m better it definitely wouldn’t be a fair fight. I don’t want to embarrass you like that.”

 

His laughter filled her with warmth and she found herself smiling in return.

 

“Fine. Dinner?” He asked.

 

“Deal, but you’re paying.”

 

She wasn’t about to start making life easy for him now. Where was the fun in that?

 

 

 

End

 


End file.
